


Smoke Alarms

by yet_i_remain_quiet



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Felicity can't cook, Felicity tries to cook, Fluff, established olicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 18:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4676150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yet_i_remain_quiet/pseuds/yet_i_remain_quiet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity tries to surprise Oliver with breakfast in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke Alarms

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of fluff I've written. Needed something happy while waiting for October. Enjoy

Oliver shot out of bed. A loud, shrill beeping shocked him out of his deep sleep. He looked over to Felicity’s side of the bed, only to find her absent. He took off, running out of their shared bedroom and down the hallway in a disoriented panic. He skidded to a stop in the entryway to the kitchen, where the sound seemed to be coming from. He stared in confusion, his mind still clouded with sleep, at the sight that lay before him.  
  
Felicity was standing on top of a chair as she used a dish towel to fan the smoke alarm. The alarm was attached to the ceiling and out of her reach, as it continued its shrill assault on their ears. She was cursing and muttering under her breath, her words inaudible over the shrieking alarm. Oliver closed his eyes tightly, and left them closed for a moment, before opening them, still trying to make sense of what was happening.  
  
The small kitchen was filled with a smoky haze. Oliver’s gaze drifted around the room. The cause of the smoke appeared to be a frying pan, that had been thrown carelessly into the sink, the pan was covered in a black mess.   
  
Unable to listen to the continuous beeping alarm a minute longer, Oliver stalked towards Felicity as she continued to fan the offensive smoke alarm. Oliver reached up with one hand and removed the top of the alarm before pulling the battery loose. The noise cut off abruptly, leaving the room in a much needed and much appreciated silence.   
  
Felicity looked up at Oliver, her blue eyes wide behind her glasses, a pink blush rose up her neck and settled on her cheeks. Oliver held his hand out to her, his ears still ringing, and helped her down from the chair she still stood on. The loss of added elevation, brought her back down to her usual height, her eyes focused on Oliver’s bare chest.  
  
“Felicity,” Oliver prodded, after several moments of silence.   
  
“Hmm,” Felicity hummed, her eyes still locked on his chest.   
  
Oliver brought his hand under her chin and tenderly pushed it upwards, forcing Felicity to make eye contact with him.   
  
“Felicity,” he repeated. “What were you doing?”  
  
Felicity’s cheeks filled with red. “Nothing,” she retorted, stepping away from Oliver.   
  
His hand shot out and carefully guided her back towards him. “Really?” he questioned. “It was ‘nothing’ that caused the smoke alarm to be blaring out.” He paused to squint at the clock. “At 6:17 am. Waking me up, scaring me half to death, especially when I realized you weren’t there. ‘Nothing’ that caused our kitchen to be filled with smoke?”  
  
Felicity groaned loudly and threw her head back. “I feel so stupid,” she announced, her voice slightly raised.   
  
Oliver raised his eyebrows. “What happened?” he asked carefully, not wanting to upset the fiery blonde that stood in front of him.   
  
Felicity dropped her head, her gaze focused on the floor and covered her face with her hands. She mumbled something into her hands, which made it impossible for Oliver to understand her muffled words.   
  
Oliver reached out and pulled her hands away from her face. “One more time,” he whispered.  
  
“I was trying to make your breakfast,” Felicity ground out. “You got in from patrol really late last night. Between the campaign and patrolling all hours of the night, you’ve been really tired lately. So, I thought I’d surprise you by making you breakfast in bed.”  
  
“But you…” Oliver trailed off, not wanting to upset Felicity anymore than she already was.   
  
“But I can’t cook,” Felicity steamed. “Yeah, I know. But I wanted to try. I was trying to make french toast and I looked up a recipe on my tablet. That seemed easy enough, but apparently you need to be a master chef to make french toast.  
  
“So, I thought I’d go simpler. I’d try eggs,” Felicity ranted. “But the internet has finally done it, it’s failed me. I couldn’t find anything helpful. Because apparently, everyone in the entire world already knows how to make eggs. A monkey could do it. But not me.   
  
“Need someone to hack into a federal database or write codes that could keep a virtual grenade out, no problem, I’m your girl. But eggs, try to make scrambled eggs and I’m useless.  
  
“You know, I graduated high school at 16,” Felicity continued, Oliver, wisely chose to remain silent. He had long since learned that when his girlfriend got on a rant like this, it was easier to let her get it all out.  
  
“Had my degree from MIT by 19. I’m a certified genius. Not many people can say that about themselves. So, why can’t I make eggs? What use is my stupid genius brain, if I can’t make my boyfriend eggs for breakfast?”  
  
Oliver waited a few moments once Felicity had stopped talking, making sure she was completely finished. He didn’t want to interrupt her if she had more to say.   
  
“Felicity,” Oliver said tentatively. “I can cook. You don’t have to cook breakfast for me.”  
  
“I know that,” Felicity fumed, tears of frustration filled her eyes. “I know, you can cook. Four time college dropout can cook. You’re perfect. You’re built like a Greek god. You save the city every single night. You somehow make running around in green leather and shooting arrows, look unbelievably hot. It should look ridiculous, but you make it work.  
  
“You always remember to put the toilet seat down, without me asking. You willingly go buy me tampons when I run out. You give the best massages. And you can make a fucking omelette,” Felicity yelled.  
  
Oliver bit his lip as he tried to keep from laughing, knowing it would only upset Felicity further. He gently pulled her towards him, hugging her to his body. He felt her arms reach around his back. He held her close to him, until he felt the tension leave her body. She rubbed her face against his chest.   
  
“Felicity,” Oliver said as he pulled back from her. He reached up and brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I love you. And I love that you tried to make me breakfast. Even if you almost burned our kitchen down while doing so.  
  
“But I am far from perfect. I’ve told you the things I had to do to survive the island and Hong Kong. I could not be further away from perfect.  
  
“And if we’re on the topic of people being damn near perfect. We should really look at you,” he stated, looking down at her lovingly.   
  
“Like you said, you’re a certified genius. I’ve seen you hack the FBI database in 15 minutes. You remember how I like my coffee, even though you have sworn never to get it for me again. You know what I’m thinking, before I do. You look amazing in your short skirts, that have always driven me crazy. You can name each of the doctors from Doctor Who and all their companions. You let me watch baseball, every Sunday, and even though you hate it, you watch with me.   
  
“And there’s one other thing,” Oliver breathed.  
  
Felicity looked up at him, she chewed her lip nervously. “What’s that?” she questioned.  
  
“You somehow, found a way to love me,” Oliver concluded. “Me and all my scars and all my dark past, and you still love me. You make me want to be better. You see something in me that no one ever has before. You’re my light.”  
  
Felicity blinked quickly, her eyes filled with tears. A small smile on her face. “And you say stuff like that,” she admired. “You say the perfect thing. When I need to hear it the most.”  
  
Oliver grinned down at his girl. “I love you.”  
  
“Even if I can’t cook?” Felicity joked.   
  
“Even if you can’t cook,” Oliver confirmed.  
  
“I love you, too,” Felicity said and stood up on her toes as she pressed her lips to Oliver’s.   
  
Oliver tightened his arms around her, deepening the kiss.  
  
“Now, can we go back to bed?” Oliver mumbled against her lip. “Like you said, I got in really late and I’m really tired.”  
  
Felicity smiled. “Take me to bed, Oliver,” she muttered before pulling back abruptly. “I mean not take me to bed, take me to bed. Let’s go to bed to sleep. Just sleep, you’re tired.”  
  
Oliver smirked and reached his arms back around Felicity’s back, pressing his palms against her firm ass. “Oh, I don’t want to sleep,” he retorted, squeezing her ass in his hands and rocked his hips into hers, causing her to gasp. “I have a few other ideas of how you can make me feel better after such a long night.”  
  
Felicity giggled, she bit her lip and began pulling Oliver towards their bedroom. “Well, I’d hate to disappoint you,” she breathed.   
  
The couple darted into their bedroom and closed the door firmly behind them. Where they remained until close to lunch, when they left and Oliver cooked eggs, before returning to the bedroom. 


End file.
